Life Insurance

January 3rd

Every moment I feel like I’m on a different wave. I’ll wake up and feel normal, sometimes even with a bit of hope. And then, by the next hour, I’m back on the floor with a broken bottle of wine in my hand, not knowing how to get back up. Your mother came over to see me yesterday. She asked me if I was doing alright. I know she had to ask, but I still winced at the question. I know she has her own broken bottles too. This time, though, I wasn’t lying when I told her I was fine. I do feel…fine. But who knows what fine even means anymore when I’m still sleeping on the couch every night just to avoid not seeing you in our bed. She brought me your ashes, and she said that you would have wanted to be scattered across the lake. I said going to the lake would be a wonderful idea. A beautiful idea. Dissolved into the lake that you loved so much growing up. Beautiful.

January 15th

You didn’t say goodbye when you left that day. That keeps bothering me. I said that to your mom when I was at the lake. She told me not to worry, that you loved me, and that goodbyes are overrated. Maybe she’s right. I hated going to that place. I hated the millions of mosquitos that were constantly harassing me, I hated watching your mother cry, I hated that disgusting swampy lake that no human should ever legally be allowed to bathe in. But you know what I hate the most today? I got a check in the mail, Jen. I can see why you hid this from me because you’re right, I’m not handling it so well. Lying to me from the grave! Okay yes, fine, I’m being dramatic. But how many times did I tell you to not take out life insurance? How many, seriously! We could barely afford our rent and you thought that this was the best way to invest your limited funds? You were 26! It makes me think that you were already planning to die before that day. Why didn’t you tell me goodbye, then? If you really had planned it this much, you would have told me goodbye, right?

January 28th

I keep realizing that I don’t have your ashes anymore. So now all that’s left of you is either sitting in my bank account, mixed up in my foggy brain or stuck in this tiny little black notebook that definitely does not have enough space to keep you in for very long. Soon enough, the money will be spent, my brain too tired to remember, and my notebook too painful to open. Then you’ll be gone. Some days I want that. Don’t take it the wrong way, you know that I love you. It’s just that remembering makes me feel like I’m drowning sometimes. It might feel easier if you’re gone, that’s all.

February 4th

Today was a bad day. I had to go to the bank and tell them to close your accounts because you were dead. Can you believe that after doing all that they still called me to ask about your accounts a few hours later? The man on the phone didn’t seem surprised when I told him. Of course, though, the second I tell him that you were my wife, then suddenly he’s all startled. Is being gay really more shocking than being dead? He asked me about the “large sum of money” that suddenly appeared in my account. I thought he was accusing me of something. I may have lost it. You would’ve hated it, I think I almost blacked out from yelling so loud. I just couldn’t deal with it anymore. You know, it’s been two weeks and I still haven’t been able to spend any of it. You would call me ridiculous but I can’t help but feel like something bad will happen when I do spend it. And the more that I think about it the more that this money doesn’t actually make any sense. How could you have afforded this? Behind my back, too? I know you took care of the financials but 20 000 dollars doesn’t just appear after struggling so much. I mean, we were almost evicted! I don’t know. Does it even matter at this point? I guess you’ll still be dead, money or not. I’m too tired.

February 10th

I went back to work today. It’s hard coming back to an empty apartment. No one knew what to say to me. If one more person asks me how I’m feeling…I know they mean well. The day really wasn’t so bad, except for everyone treating me like a wounded bird. It felt nice to be distracted from the constant thoughts of you. I talked to your mom about the money, and she told me that she thought it was unexpected, but not suspicious. She said that you always thought of me and took care of me, and that this was just another way that you did that. She’s right, I’m sorry for overreacting. I just wasn’t expecting it at all, and I wasn’t in the mood for any more surprises. I promise that I do appreciate it now, and I’m sure it will be helpful in the next coming months. On another note, I think I might get a dog. Even with our neighbours banging on the walls every five minutes, it’s still too quiet. The stillness is so lonely.

February 25th

The waves weren’t so bad this past week. You would be proud of me, Jen. I slept in our bed! It was only one time, and I haven’t felt strong enough to do it again yet, but I will eventually. To be fair I now have a dog to cuddle with instead of you. Not a bad replacement, I have to say. Yeah, yeah, I’m kidding. I miss you. These past few days it’s like I could feel you watching me. Maybe you’ve reincarnated into Muffin. Actually no, that can’t be it, Muffin is too quiet to be you. Ha. Hey, I have more good news! Guess who bought a coffee today using the life insurance money of their dead wife? Me! You would've been right, nothing bad happened after. I even felt a bit relieved, like a weight was lifted off of me. I think I just built up that moment in my head way too much. Also, I invited Mel over the other day. I had barely spoken to her since it happened. It was hard. But then we got pass-out-level drunk and forgot how sad we were for a little while. It felt nice to laugh with her.

"You gonna bag that?"

“Yeah, I think it belonged to the victim. Maybe there's a suicide note inside. Hey, doesn't this case look similar to that other one from a few months ago?”

"Right, that other girl. What was her name again? Jenna Ramos or something. That's kind of a weird coincidence, isn't it? Both in such odd locations, too. You think there might be something more to this?"